Once In A Blue Moon
by quinntubbington
Summary: A tale of two girls whose lives are changed forever one summer. Finding a love like theirs is something that happens once in a blue moon, but getting it back is double the challenge.


From the author: Hi guys, the fic will follow the events of last summer as well as the present one in two parallel plots (the dates will be provided in the headings). It's set in the summer of 1991 and the summer of 1992 and I got the prompt from the film 'adventureland', setting wise. It will become more mature as the story progresses - and at same times definitely less angsty, I promise. So enjoy and please review!

NB: cover image credit to lolachele

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**June 5th 1992**

**Present day**

Quinn opened the stiff window and let the summer breeze sink in.

With one mighty push she managed to find some reason to start her day, and with the bright Lima sun beaming outside her window it was an impossible task to say no to. Today was a new day whether she was ready for it or not. Facing it was the best option she had, since it was either that or lurking back to the prison of her bed – something she'd seemed to do pretty well over the last few months. Or more so, year.  
That's what happens when you're lost; you start loosing everything else too. When you can't find yourself its impossible to hold onto anything else, not even your dreams and definitely not the time. The days had merged into weeks which had sunken into an entire year, and with each passing day Quinn had lost another chunk of herself to the bitter past that festered in her mind every sleepless nights. It was different now that summer had come, or more so, she managed to convince herself that it was. She wasn't sure whether it was because summer reminded her of _her _or maybe it was just the fact that many things were easier to do with the help of the sun. Either way, she saw it as a chance to finally let go of the past. But it wasn't like that, and she wasn't the one holding on. It was the past that wanted to keep her. It was the past that wrapped her up in memories of last kisses and forgotten words and dragged her back from every new memory that threatened to form. She had no more space for new thoughts or new feelings, her heart was too heavy with the ones she already did have. Her mom had once told her that sometimes you had to let go of things simply because they're too heavy, and perhaps Quinn had taken her advice last summer and the consequence was having to let herself go. She didn't think you could do that just by saying goodbye to someone, but unfortunately she learnt that hard way that you could. And they could take more of you than you ever thought possible.

The blonde pressed her forehead to the clear window and savored the cool touch of the glass, somehow letting it soak up all her thoughts before she entangled herself with the trials of today. Getting out of bed was an accomplishment, eating breakfast as an accomplishment, being okay was an accomplishment. It had to be. There was no other prize waiting for her.  
Tugging a sweatshirt over her head and finding a pair of denim shorts, Quinn padded her way down the stairs as her long and tattered blonde hair messily frayed over her shoulders. She swore one day she'd chop it off, but she never did well with promises. As her toes dipped into the kitchen she found the same scene that she always did – the table was laid over a buttercup yellow cloth and contained a breakfast scene set for the perfect family. Judy Fabray had prided herself on catering for her family of three in a way that would cater for one of six, with not a crust of toast missing or an unequal ratio of strawberry to raspberry jelly. Judy Fabray was a fixer, and over the years it seemed that her family had been her main project – or more so, Quinn. Quinn needed fixing, and everyone in town knew about it. They could see the broken fragments in her smile and the torn and scuffed edges in her gaze, and most of them believed it was because of what happened more summer – most of them didn't know that that was actually what saved her. And it wasn't what had happened, it was a who. A who that Quinn no longer allowed herself to think about. A who that hadn't been in Quinn's life for the past eight months. A who that had intertwined herself so firmly in Quinn's being that her absence had left a large and gaping hole in every part of her. Quinn shut her eyes firmly as she blinked the thought away, settling for slathering a piece of bread over thinking. Thinking was another thing that she planned to put away for as long as possible. She was nineteen years old and if there ever was a time for thinking - it wasn't now.

Quinn had found herself so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the other two people there at the table with her. At the sound of her mother's voice her hazel eyes scattered up to see her father buried in the local Lima newspaper and her mom watching her with those familiar besotted and pitying eyes. Quinn's mouthful turned to a slow chew as she looked back at her blankly.

"I said, how did you sleep Quinn?" Judy repeated in a peachy tone that fitted to the June day perfectly. It seemed like as soon as the first marigold bloomed that something in Judy Fabray seemed to blossom too. It was summer days like these when she was most in her element. Things were better in summer and Judy strived for that.

Quinn rolled her shoulders softly in a shrug as she smudged on some jelly and took another bite. The real answer was that she slept just as she'd slept every other night for the past few recent nights - numbly. No dreams, no thoughts, no drifting. She was dead to the world and she was thankful of that. Dreams were torturous and dangerous, things that you couldn't control and things that taunted reality. Somewhere amidst the nightmares her body had decided enough was enough, and each night her mind was a blank slate that was cold and bare.

"Fine" She answered as she always did. It seemed like for the past year she might as well have had the word tattooed on her forehead regardless of the question asked. That was everyone's problem in Lima, they asked too many questions. Judy looked at her in the same way that Quinn had seen children look at bambi after his mother had been shot in the previous scene. With mild disgust Quinn found herself avoiding the sympathy and focusing on the squished strawberry conserve that had found its way onto the tablecloth. That's what Quinn did in the household, she ruined things, and there wasn't enough washing powder in the world for Judy or anyone to fix her. Though someone once did, or more so, made her believe there wasn't anything that needed fixing. That was the problem in trusting people and letting them make you happy, as soon as they go they take what they gave you with them and maybe even a little more – in Quinn's case, a whole lot more.

Quinn decided that the arrival of someone new in your life was similar to starting to a new book. At first the pages are clean and white, hardly a scratch to them. But the more you get into the book the more page corners are dog tagged and the more typos you find, until suddenly you're at the end of it whether you like it or not. Some books are longer than others, just as some people stick around in your life for longer. But no matter how long the story, it always has to end, and Quinn often found herself asking whether she'd pick up the last book she closed in her life now knowing the ending to it. The Rachel book. She still hadn't found an answer to that.

The summer of 1991 had changed Quinn forever, and she could still feel the scars of it pressed into her every thought. But it wasn't the summer that crawled its way into her thoughts in the supermarket, and it wasn't the weather or the events that found their way into her mind whilst she slept – it was her. It was Rachel Berry. Rachel Berry was that summer and every moment of it belonged to her. Rachel Berry's first page promised Quinn a different tale than the last page had ended on, and there was a part of Quinn that would never forgive her for that. Rachel Berry was the only girl, the only person, that Quinn knew she could love and - more painfully - Quinn also knew that there was no one out there that would love her as much as Rachel did. It was painful because she had left. Rachel tore Quinn's own last page out and burnt it with a two-syllable word, one that was stronger than even the three sentences that had intermingled their way through a shared breath.

"Any plans for today?" Judy prompted as she fished Quinn out of her sea of thoughts, partially unwillingly. Quinn didn't really have an answer for that question, but having found herself quickly finishing her breakfast she decided that maybe she finally should. Maybe it was time to think of somewhere new to go. The places she used to hang out no longer belonged to her, so perhaps today she could finally find some new ones.

"I'm thinking of just having a walk" Quinn managed, finishing her last bite before looking over at her mom. A pang of unfamiliar guilt erupted in her chest causing her to push through a smile, or at least a ghost of a one. It was enough to comfort Judy, so as soon as Quinn had gotten up from the table she let it fall with ease. As she made her way up to her room to get ready she found herself tempted to retreat to her drawer and look her past square in the face, in the form of one polaroid with a very large stain on it.

She remembered how clumsily Rachel had dropped it in the puddle and how furious Quinn had been about it. Looking back at the moment there was no denying why. At the beginning, everything about Rachel made her furious. Last summer, the summer that they met, Rachel was employed at Adventureland. Ten minutes away from Lima the theme park had been set up by a strange couple in the early eighties and seemed to be a booming success by the time that Quinn had found herself reluctantly filling out an employee form. A part of her had loved her first month there, or at least the attention she received. She had it all, the admiration, the boyfriend, the higher paycheck – and then some brunette wandered in and changed Quinn's life forever. The photo was taken on Rachel's first day, and Quinn could still hear the enthusiastic call of the photographer to smile. She could still feel Rachel shuffling reluctantly closer to her and still smell her light perfume that mixed in with the cotton candy and the crushed cinnamon buns of the fair stalls. Rachel smelt like the summer of 1991, and Quinn wished you could keep a polaroid of that.

As the blonde picked up the small white square from its hiding place she held it carefully in both hands as if it was more precious than it was. She hated herself for that, and a part of her always taunted her to throw it away. Two strangers stared back at her. On the right, a girl that she'd never see again but still had her heart clasped firmly between her two beaming lungs, and on the left, a girl that she was glad got lost somewhere in the cracks of Adventureland. Rachel met her at a time when all that remained as all that could possibly be left of a person after what Quinn had gone through. She was rebellious, she was angry, she was mistreated and she was hurt. Rachel kissed her bruises better which only made them more sore when she got on that train back to New York. That was another thing, maybe Quinn had always known how their last page would end, maybe she thought she could just ignore it. Maybe she thought she would be enough to change it. But what Quinn was completely oblivious of, was that their last page didn't exist - their story was still continuing.

After a subconscious series of events that landed Quinn dressed for the outside world, she found herself at the door of her house. As her fingertips traced the oak she remembered how it felt when she was pressed up against it with Rachel. But she couldn't, she couldn't let herself remember – she couldn't pry into the open wound of the memories that Rachel left – she knew if she did it would never heal. This was her only chance to heal. This was the time that Rachel belonged to a city hundreds of miles away and couldn't remind Quinn of everything that she'd had. A love like that was once in a blue moon.

With a tug of courage and silent deep breath, Quinn pulled the door open and let herself out from the comfort of her home.

_Don't look left, whatever you do – don't look left_. Quinn repeated the order as she squeezed her eyes shut and averted that side of the road all together. Even from her own home she could see the Berry's household like a beacon of the past, taunting her of all that had been. But she wouldn't let herself think about that, not anymore. Quinn found herself walking right with determination and a cold glare, a heartless part of her that she thought Rachel had demolished.

And then all of a sudden she wished she had looked left. Gone left. _Ran_ left. Because there, in the front seat of a sickly familiar SUV, were those brown eyes staring widely back at her. Those same brown eyes that kept every moment shared between them locked tightly up, those same brown eyes that had looked at Quinn in a way that no one ever had before, and those same brown eyes that held the exact – if not more – amount of misery that Quinn's own ones had only moments ago whilst they looked at a stupid polaroid.

Quinn looked straight past them and carried on walking without a single break in her posture. She was Quinn Fabray and the time had come to find her again. She would not give Rachel the satisfaction of a longing look. She would survive and leave Rachel behind, just as she'd done to her last summer.

But that wasn't the only thing that happened last summer. Not even close.


End file.
